The spears of spring
I daren’t mention them by name.
A word proscribed by those
that see themselves
as arbiters of poetic taste.
A sight to cure all ills?
No, a cliché to be shunned.
Darkness arrives a little later
on these January afternoons.
Just noticing that
can lift the heart.
And here they are. I see them
peeping from the undergrowth
and hasten to cut it back,
to give them light, to thrive
and grow. To give me hope.
These spears of spring.
raypool
Wed 6th Jan 2021 15:55
I love the idea of things thrusting up in the spring and this poem is testament to that even with warnings a la WOL. Please no banned words even in retrospect, otherwise I shall get the runs. I've got a bunch of irises poking through and get hope from them. Well, you do have to be patient. Is there a covid 19 variety?
Ray